


Transgression

by viridian_house



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Cheating, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Human/Monster Romance, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Masturbation, Other, Rare Pairings, Voyeurism, monster fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viridian_house/pseuds/viridian_house
Summary: Light's inattentiveness leaves Misa wanting, and Ryuk finds a new pastime worlds more interesting than what the original Kira could ever offer. Has the shinigami bitten off more than he can chew?(Ryuk x Misa; explicit)
Relationships: Amane Misa/Ryuk
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	1. Onlooker

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to rewatch Death Note and accidentally reawakened my inner monster fucker. She's always been there, just a little less dominant the older I get. There seems to be a painful lack of Ryuk x Misa content, so here I am making a small contribution to scratch my own itch.
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> \--Vivi  
> 

on·look·er  
/ˈänˌlo͝okər,ˈônˌlo͝okər/

noun: onlooker; plural noun: onlookers

a nonparticipating observer; a spectator.  
"a crowd of fascinated onlookers"

* * *

He had known that Misa was different the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Her sense of fashion was one thing—and strikingly similar to his own, although he couldn’t remember if the clothes he wore were of his own choosing, or if they even _were_ clothes, in the human sense. She’d fit right in back in the shinigami realm, whatever the case. More than that, she’d shown no fear at the sight of him. Instead, she had been downright enthused, and that was putting it lightly.

“Yeah, nice to meet ya, too,” Ryuk had replied casually, waving a hand. It seemed her attitude was infectious.

 _Heh._ Looking back, it was easier to understand how not one, but two of his contemporaries had fallen for the human woman. Hell, she’d even hugged him eagerly that time in the woods, and man _,_ that had definitely gotten him flustered. Her body was light as a feather and so, so warm.

Hmm...easier to understand, yes, but _love_? That still seemed a bit outlandish.

Currently, he stood hunched in the corner of Light’s apartment bedroom while Misa attempted to work her magic on her stoic boyfriend, something she tried most nights. A ritual, perhaps, at this point. Ryuk, in his utter boredom, had begun keeping count of how many times Light had given in and...what was that crude word Misa used? _Fucked_ her. That was it.

Not that Ryuk was ignorant of human mating habits, which weren’t much different from any other animal. He’d seen couples going at it, orgies (which particularly interested him), rape (which didn’t), and things that _looked_ like rape but seemed to’ve been agreed upon by both parties. Humans were fascinating creatures, when they weren’t trying to be. He’d watch people fucking as a passive observer, but felt nothing different as if he’d been watching a birth or a death, a surgery, a party, or even any mundane human interaction: it was something to do that passed the time faster than it would otherwise go.

To be in the same room while two people got hot-and-heavy, though, _that_ was different, he’d realized. Light and Misa probably weren’t the best specimens from which to form such a conclusion, what for lack of frequency and mutual passion, but the change in atmosphere was palpable nonetheless when the jerk would finally kiss her.

Ryuk supposed he’d been keeping a tally as a form of anticipation. If there was a pattern, he’d know when was the best time to stick around for the show. But these two humans were simply full of surprises, and there was no discernible pattern to draw.

Tonight, though, appeared to be more of the usual. Light had been scribbling notes in a regular notebook, copying something from whatever text was relevant to his latest studies, and was paying no mind to Misa’s very effortful...well, efforts in distracting him. Ryuk watched her ass, decorated in frilly underwear (and sheer, so much so that Ryuk could see right through them), waving back and forth while she pawed at Light’s crotch, who ignored her as though she wasn’t there at all.

Ryuk thought, _What a waste, Light._

As if on cue, Light sucked his teeth, finally annoyed enough to put a stop to this evening’s ritual. He snapped shut the textbook and gathered the notepad, and with his free hand he pushed Misa away with a curt shove. He was nearing the limits of his patience, Ryuk knew, which had been growing thinner by the day. Even in the rare moments he gave into Misa’s fervent demands, he was either completely uninvolved or exponentially violent. Misa didn’t seem to mind either way, if her moans were any indication, but Ryuk had seen how she laid on their bed and moped—sometimes cried—before she fell asleep, not long after Light had gotten up to attend to other matters, sometimes leaving the apartment entirely.

Once Light had closed the door behind him, Misa flopped onto her back, her limbs sprawled out over most of the bed, and sighed. Ryuk himself felt like sighing; another dull evening. It was taking Light forever to make any big moves since that L’s death. Briefly he considered going to bug Light, but his short temper had been grating on Ryuk’s nerves.

His wings shot out of his shoulderblades, and his body lifted as they flapped. He floated up through the roof and perched there, losing himself in his thoughts as he watched the city traffic sparkle by down below.

 _Guess I can’t blame the guy_ , Ryuk mused on Light’s temper. _I’ve been bored out of my mind, too._ Ryuzaki really was one in a million...but then, what did that make Ryuk, that his stolen notebook happened to be picked up by the one human who could match that detective’s intelligence and resolve? Was this part of some even more obscure gods’ plans? Surely not the Old Man, who couldn’t be bothered to care about much these days. Fate? Predestiny? Those were heavy thoughts.

Further, what did that make Misa? Light was another one in a million, but for all his wit and cool, calculated nature, he wasn’t very fun to be around. Not that he was a _bore,_ either, but he neither exuded energy nor sucked it out of the room. He merely _was._ Misa, though, radiated it like a light. Ryuk chortled at his use of words, but it was true: even standing in her then-new boyfriend’s cramped childhood bedroom with two gods of death looming over them, she was brimming with a hopeful excitement abnormal for a human in such a circumstance.

“Light.”

The name was spoken so softly, even to his ears, that for a second he thought he might have been going crazy. He cocked his head to the side, thinking perhaps Light had changed his mind, or otherwise come back for something. But he couldn’t hear anything for a long moment, until he heard a distinct moan, breathy; barely a whisper.

He felt the funny twist in his chest, the same one as the first time he saw Misa take Light’s cock into her mouth. _Cock_ was another human word he’d learned from watching them. _“_ _Light,”_ Misa had said once, her voice dripping with sweetness, _“don’t you want to know what it feels like to have your cock deep inside me?”_

He glanced down at the street once more, and saw Light as he stalked down the sidewalk, out for a late-night walk.

Ryuk couldn’t resist; he simply _had_ to look now. Bracing his hands on the roof, he stretched his neck and lowered his head, his gangling arms resembling wings behind him. He phased his upper body through the ceiling and peered down hard, but he had not been prepared for what he saw.

Misa lie there on the bed, one leg bent to the side, the other straight. She had an arm draped dramatically over her forehead, and her other arm was...well, it was...slung across her body, enabling her dainty hand to rub at herself through her underwear. Her middle finger swirled in a circular motion, sometimes quickly, sometimes excruciatingly slowly, even to Ryuk’s inexperienced eyes. Every few moments, she would press the heel of her palm down on her entire area—Ryuk was sure he’d heard the technical term for it _somewhere_...a vulva, maybe?—and she let out another breathy moan. The twist in his chest twisted further, impossibly tight.

Her hardened nipples were visible beneath the sheerness of her bra, and something dawned on him then. He had seen her “couplings” with Light a few times now, and so far two things were different from this: firstly, she was much quieter alone, even with Light out of the apartment when she wouldn’t have to be sneaky or coy about it. Second, she did not touch her breasts in the way she did while getting fucked. Ryuk deduced these things were only done as a performance, to exaggerate the appearance of her pleasure. Yet another way to stroke Light’s ego, he guessed. _She really does worship the guy, huh?_

Misa’s hand slowed, and she trailed it up along her stomach and around to her hip. Ryuk stared, completely fixated. He had never had such a view of her before, without Light in the way. He had seen her in all manner of dress and undress, but not like _this._ Why he’d seemed to have forgotten that humans pleasured themselves at times, he couldn’t say, but that Misa would go behind her Kira’s back to do it, well, this was proving to be _exceedingly_ fascinating. He was so entranced that he hadn’t yet noticed that Misa was grabbing her underwear and pulling it down over her hips. She pressed her legs together and lifted her ass, sliding them off and letting them fall, dangling on one ankle. As she resumed her earlier position and brought her hand back down to her vulva, her eyes fluttered open.

And met Ryuk’s directly.

 _Ahh_ , he groaned inwardly. It was too good to be true for too long. He’d been caught, and she would surely stop, or ask him to go back to the roof, or some such thing. _But it was sure fun while it lasted._ In fact, the thrill of being caught might have been even more exhilarating than—

“Ryuk.”

A throb pulsed through his body then, just once, but hard. The twisting feeling became more a shockwave, his limbs tingling in a way he’d never before experienced. He balked, unmoving. Her hand continued to lower, and she pressed her fingertips to her slit, the skin reacting not unlike a sponge.

How delicate and sexy she looked, her pale form awash in the harsh glow of his gaze in the otherwise dark room. Her newly exposed area was pink and plump, with a certain sheen to it he hadn’t noticed from being a voyeur in the corner of their room.

Ryuk could feel his mouth near to watering, and as she began to split the lips apart with her index and ring fingers, his breath caught audibly in his throat. Her eyes locked to his, far above her, she used her free middle finger to tap slowly on her clit.

He was beyond wondering when he’d learned all the terms for these sorts of things. Instead, he was focused intently on her pussy, peach-like and glistening as her finger slid up and down the folds. He hadn’t tasted a peach _or_ a human woman’s genitals, but if they were anything near as juicy as she looked, he could see the appeal tenfold. Maybe enough to give up apples...

“Ryuk,” she moaned this time, circling her clit faster. Her hips bucked slightly, the movement so slight he thought it must have been subconsciously done. Just as he began to think this was the sexiest thing she had done so far, she lifted the arm that had been draped over her head and lowered it, opening her legs wider. Her free hand grabbed at her thighs and her ass, and with her index finger she swirled around her opening, teasing herself.

Ryuk was at a loss. His stomach felt like it was in knots, his chest so tight it was sore. These reactions were already foreign to him, but stranger still was the pulsing ache between his legs. He wasn’t stupid, and knew what that feeling must be, but...he wasn’t sure that he had the “equipment.” He’d never had to use it, and certainly never thought he would feel a need. Shinigami rarely had carnal relations with each other, and none had ever caught his eye anyway.

As Misa continued to touch herself and whimper quietly, he felt the cool breeze of the early summer night bite against his undead skin, harsher than it had ever been. It was then that he realized that his “clothes,” so they appeared, were such a part of his form that they’d now evaporated entirely off of his body without conscious thought, save for his dangling earring, the rings decorating his knobby fingers, and his stitched-on, feathered collar.

Below him, Misa had slipped her finger into the hole it had been teasing, all while her other hand continued to rub at her clit with increasing ferocity.

The dilemma of Ryuk’s clothes would simply have to wait.

He watched as she moved her finger in and out of her entrance. A damp spot appeared on the bedsheets beneath her, and he noted with great interest that her toes curled and her legs began to fold in as her hips rolled and bucked once more, and again, and again. She added another finger, and Ryuk was entranced by the way her opening stretched to accommodate them; her fingers were knuckle-deep inside of herself. He wondered with a burning curiosity how it would feel to touch her, taste her, fuck her, and he couldn't keep himself from feeling an envious rage at Light. How could the guy resist _this_?

“Ryuk,” she moaned, barely audible, and her eyes closed while her fingers continued to ram into her pussy. Her other hand barely moved with coherence anymore, going back and forth and up and down on her clit fast enough for her hand to be nearly a blur. Her eyes stayed shut, eyebrows pinched above them in concentration. Ryuk leaned in just a bit further, and found himself, for the first time he could ever recall, wishing a human would do something so specific to his wants—no, his needs. He felt he would turn to dust in an instant if he did not have this.

 _Look_ _at me._

Her eyes—eyes that possessed a power he himself had given her—slowly opened once more, and Ryuk’s own bulging orbs could look nowhere but hers as she turned her head to meet his gaze full-on. Her eyes widened, and her expression changed to one that seemed to Ryuk like _pleading_. She was reaching her climax; her body gave one final buck, ass and hips raised, and her lips parted slightly. They stared at each other as slight tremors wracked her body, for one, two, five, ten, twenty long, drawn-out seconds, her fringe sticking to her sweating, flushed face...and then her eyes closed again, and she let herself fall back down onto the bed.

She lay very still. So still that, were it not for the fact that he could hear her frantic heartbeat, he might have assumed she’d died right then and there.

No, that wasn’t right. Ryuk found that his own ears felt as though he was standing under a waterfall, a rushing sound all around him. He took a moment to steady himself, and the noise faded to a dull hum. Now he could hear that she was breathing quick, deep breaths that steadied over the long minute it took for the noise in his ears to die into a deafening silence. When she brought her fingers out of her vagina, the soft _squish_ sound could have made Ryuk laugh, if not for the events that led to it and his wholly unanticipated reaction.

They both remained still and quiet, until Misa opened her eyes once more. She had to be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, in this moment. Again she looked right at Ryuk and gave a wry smirk. “Ryuk," she said in a voice as normal as if she were asking about the weather, "you pervert.”


	2. Reciprocation

re·cip·ro·cate  
/rəˈsipra,ˈkāt/

verb: reciprocate; gerund or present participle: reciprocating

respond to (a gesture or action) by making a corresponding one.  
"the favor was reciprocated"

* * *

Ryuk had found himself in quite the precarious situation.

Since their...whatever had happened three nights ago, Misa’s behavior hadn’t changed in the slightest. He had to give her some credit, really, since she shared just about everything with Light, even the most boring of details like which clothes she saw at the shops but did not buy, or other such things.

That she had gone four days without mentioning anything to Light gave Ryuk a few things to mull over. Part of him thought he might actually have been hallucinating, that he really _did_ go crazy. It was not unheard of for a shinigami to snap, and the excitement surrounding Kira had slowed considerably with no one to play a cat-and-mouse game with Light. Ryuk could have simply conjured the experience in his mind.

Ah, he wasn’t fooling himself. It'd definitely been real.

Another part of him then wondered which was the more interesting route to take: to tell Light and see his reaction, or to keep it a secret? On the surface, the secret option seemed the most appealing...but the complete unknown of Light’s reaction could be equally exciting. Misa was more a tool to him than anything. Would he be indifferent? Would he go into a rage? Would he be interested in watching her, too, if he knew? Maybe he’d even suggest something not unlike the orgies Ryuk had seen on occasion from far, far away. _That_ would be interesting, although Ryuk would have to admit he’d be a tiny bit disappointed. If he was going to get it on with a guy, he’d rather it have been Ryuzaki. But he didn’t like to feel so picky.

In fact, he didn’t like feeling that he was much too close to playing a very dangerous game. Just what was he doing, sorting through the humans he’d known for the best suited with whom to do _that_ sort of thing? His mind had been racing with such thoughts and, worse, a hot desire to watch her again. What if he was walking right into a trap laid by Light, who for whatever reason needed Ryuk out of the way? Was the shinigami soon to be a pile of dust lying between Misa’s legs?

Not that dying particularly frightened him; it would just be a shame to have to throw in the towel so soon. He had to see Misa again, maybe even figure out if he could pleasure himself to take some of the edge off. But Light hadn’t had any reason to leave, and Ryuk was sure Misa wouldn’t give him another show with her boyfriend around. He followed her lead the same way he followed Light’s. It really was no fun if Ryuk manipulated things _too_ much.

_Ah,_ _whatever_ _,_ he thought, _maybe they’ll hook up one of these nights. That’ll have to do._

At least his clothes had appeared back on his body, moments after Misa had left the room that night. He still wasn’t too sure about how to solve that on his own.

“Ryuk,” came her voice, tingling like tiny bells. “You’re not going out with Light?”

_Huh?_ He’d been so lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed Light had just left, the front door clicking shut behind him. “Not if he’s not doin’ anything fun,” Ryuk said, masking his newfound hope with his usual carefree tone.

“He has to show up for lectures every now and then,” Misa said, waving her hand as if fanning away a bad smell. “I know _I_ wouldn’t have fun going to college. _Bo-oring_!”

Ryuk chuckled dryly; Light’s studies were easily the most boring part about him. Shinigami had rules to follow, yes, so for Ryuk to discover that rules in the human world were, for the most part, even more rigid was a big let-down. Further, that Light could be trusted to not do anything stupid with the Death Note was sometimes its own double-edged sword—Ryuk could lounge around and eat apples all day if he wanted, but that grew painfully dull the longer it went on.

Misa sat at her vanity and began brushing her hair, the scent of which caught in Ryuk’s nose as he stood nearby, watching. The perfumed air wafting towards him was intoxicating, if not a little overbearing—it was an apple blossom scent, one that he’d told her he liked a while ago. Months ago, that was, maybe even a year, not long after she and Light had regained their memories.

Once when the young lovers had argued over who would buy groceries, Ryuk had grown so desperate for apples that he’d found the perfume bottle and sprayed some into his mouth. That had arguably been worse than the actual apples back home.

Misa stood and pushed her face close to the mirror, preening her makeup. The black, faintly patterned skirt she wore was already criminally short, but as she leaned over the vanity it rode up and exposed a small bit of her ass, right where it met her thigh. Ryuk stared.

“Ya goin’ somewhere?” he asked casually. If all really _had_ been a vivid hallucination, he could pretend to ask this question because he’d be bored with no one home. Maybe he’d finally ask Light for his own gaming console. Or maybe Misa would invite him along on whatever shopping trip she’d planned, something he usually declined.

“No,” she replied, smoothing the bottom of her lipstick with her pinky finger. She pressed her lips together and they came apart with a satisfying _pop_. He wondered how it would feel to slide his tongue along them, and down her throat. “Just making sure I look okay for the show.” She smiled and walked past him, a bit too close. He stood very still and asked,

“The show?” Ryuk tried not to be hopeful. He was sure Misa was on a break from filming. Maybe she meant one of those _fashion_ shows, of which he’d been to a few with Light, when the guy cared enough about keeping up the appearance that they were dating. The girls were pretty and the fashion, at least when Misa was involved, was cool. It wouldn’t be a total waste of an afternoon.

When Ryuk finally turned toward Misa, he saw that she had sat on the edge of the bed, her legs pressed together. The stockings she wore weren’t totally sheer, and didn’t even cover past her knees, but he had an idle thought that she looked very good in them.

“Ryuk,” she started, voice a bit shaky. Her face wore that expression from the other night that Ryuk thought of as _pleading_ , and a blush dusted over her features, though it could have been the makeup. Her hands were folded on her lap and she stared at his feet while she shifted in her jacket. Was she uncomfortable? “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. About...the other night.”

Oh.

Whether Ryuk could blush or not, he wasn’t entirely sure. He figured it would be all over his body by now. He was dying to see where she was going with this. “Yeah, sure. What about it?”

Her head sunk a bit, her cheek pressed against her jacket’s collar. “Light...Light doesn’t want me,” she said, and Ryuk realized that perhaps her expression really _was_ pleading. “Not...like a boyfriend _should_ want his girlfriend.” She paused. “You...you’re the one who gave him the notebook in the first place. I thought that...maybe…”

“Yeah?” He feigned indifference.

“Well…Light brought justice to my family, but he wouldn’t be Kira without you.” She was starting to talk in circles; he listened for her heartbeat and found it pounding against her chest. She was nervous. “Please, Ryuk. If Light won’t let me worship him—let me worship you instead!” Now her face set in a tepid determination as she looked him in the eye, and he felt his breath catch again, that familiar tingling creeping through his limbs.

Did he want to be worshiped? That wasn’t something that had crossed his mind before, but judging by his body’s reaction, he wasn’t opposed to the idea. Perhaps it was in his nature as a god to want such a thing. He worried, fleetingly, he might become addicted to it.

“When I saw you watching me,” she went on, her fists now balled on the bed on either side of her, “it was like God had answered my prayers.” Ryuk took a subconscious step forward. “I love Light more than anything but...but I...Misa has needs, too! I thought I would die if he doesn’t think I’m beautiful—” another step, and another “—but you’re the only one stronger than him. If you think Misa is worth watching, then…” He had closed the distance between them, her small frame burning hot as she sat directly before his face and hunched chest. “You’ll let me worship you, right? In the way that Light won’t?”

Ryuk simply could not believe what he was hearing. He never thought Misa would ever think these things about Light, let alone speak them out loud. Was Light screwing around with them, making Misa act this way before killing her off? Oh, this seemed so downright _fun_ from any angle at which he examined it.

What to say? The first thing he could think was this: “I’m not the only one stronger,” he said, trying to keep the humor in his voice. He looked ahead at the bed’s headboard, but could see the top of her hair near the bottom of his vision. “You do most of the work for him, don’t ya? You’ve got the eyes.”

“Eyes that you gave me!” she nearly yelled, leaping off the bed. Surprised, he looked down at her. “Everything good that’s ever happened to Misa, happened because of Ryuk.”

“Oi, oi, don’t go around thinkin’ I’m some kinda good guy,” he said, placing a clawed hand gently on her shoulder, a pathetic attempt at comfort. “I was bored back then, that’s all.” Would she push for it?

“Is that the only reason why you stayed to watch me?” she asked quietly, glancing at his hand, which had lingered on her shoulder far longer than he meant it to. “Misa hoped...it was more than that.”

“Well, I—”

“I haven’t come like that,” she interrupted, “in my entire life. And Misa used to touch herself a _lot,_ you know.”

His limbs had gone numb, chest twisted in utter chaos. He hadn’t expected such blatantly dirty words from her, and before he had a chance to respond, he felt something warm and wet trail along his jaw. It was her tongue; she’d stood on her toes to tease him so. His hands fell back down by his side. He may as well have been paralyzed. Being an active participant was _much_ different than being a passive observer.

Just then, he heard a squeak. For a second he wondered if she’d recoiled, perhaps his skin tasted foul to her mortal tongue. But when he regained composure enough to glance down at her, that same composure vanished, because his clothes were again gone, and he had never felt so strange in his long, meaningless existence.

“R-Ryuk!” she stammered, so taken aback that her knees caught on the bed, awkwardly plopping her back where she’d been sitting. He couldn’t hold back from laughing out loud at that. She stared wide-eyed at him, hard enough that he thought she might bore a hole right through him, up and down and back again. He watched as her fingers twitched, unsure what they should be doing.

It was quiet for another long moment, and the room began to feel claustrophobic as a growing fear settled in Ryuk: she was disgusted at the sight of him. His naked form was sure to be unseemly, scarred and stitched and far too skinny, and this was ignoring the fact that he had no idea what his genitals would look like, or if he had any at all. This was not something to be explored with a human, let alone a human who was already being strung along and used by another. Even a shinigami could see, plainly, that she deserved better.

Her voice was a whisper. “Will you watch me?”

He stared, unmoving. “Sure.”

She looked up at him, and the reminder that the power in her eyes was bestowed by him sent another aching throb through his body. He hated to pull strings on his own, but he couldn’t help himself. “You want me to go up on the roof again?”

The softness of her voice came again, and she glanced away, blushing harshly. “Actually, can I...can I...touch you?”

My, this week was full of surprises, and Ryuk was weak in the face of them.

“Uh, sure, but,” he stammered, not quite sure how to go on. There was no use in being coy anymore, he supposed. “This has never happened to me before. So I don’t really know what to expect.”

She looked back up at him, a bit surprised. “If it’s _kami-sama’s_ first time,” she breathed as she reached out to grab his gnarled hands in hers, “Misa will be sure to take care of him.” A small, sweet smile lit her face.

The rushing sound from that night returned, and he realized this was maybe his equivalent of his heart thudding in his ears. _Kami-sama?!_ He was stunned beyond words and beyond action, and thought that while he could get used to being worshiped in such a way, he wasn’t sure if the feelings in his chest, stomach, and groin were ones that would ever be welcome. It was so enthralling it was almost sickening as it dawned on him that he would—possibly—have access to all the things he saw of and desired from her the other night. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that, but the excitement ran so deep within him he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He would never again be satisfied with watching her from the ceiling.

Suddenly he understood with perfect clarity the human phrase, _Don’t tempt me with a good time._

Below him, Misa trailed her hands up his arms, so lightly he was worried he was imagining it. She reached his bony shoulders and he let out a low growl as her warm fingertips danced along his collarbone. She traced the stitching along his chest, smoothing the feathery thorn-like collar with her small hands. “I always liked this,” she said, planting tiny kisses along the underside of it, dizzying him instantly. “So it’s part of your body? Not your clothes?”

He was quiet as he tried to calm his swirling insides, before realizing she expected an answer. “Uh, guess so.”

She ran her hands down the front of his chest, and the shiver that coursed through her did not go unnoticed by either of them. “You’re cold,” she murmured. “I remembered, from that time in the woods.”

His reply caught in his throat, for before he could speak it, she had slid off of the bed and sat on her haunches before him. He stared down at her while she examined his dick—and this was the moment in which Ryuk, too, realized he had one. Her proximity to it made it throb so hard that it bumped against his leg. The sensation made his eyes flash red, the room darkening around them.

It was a pale grey like the rest of him and, like his limbs, faded into a solid black at the end. Misa took it in her hands as if it were a jewel, so careful and delicate was she. The muscles in his thighs tightened in response, his stomach in turmoil. She could not fit a closed fist around it, though the length of it wasn’t much longer than one of her open hands—which were so warm around the freezing skin that a low grunt escaped him.

She looked up at him then and opened her mouth. He thought she was about to speak, but instead it opened wider, her tongue glistening inside. Eyes locked on his, she took the head of his penis into her mouth.

She closed her eyes and sucked on him lightly, and he could not stop the deep moan that tore its way out of his throat. He had never felt anything like this before as her tongue swirled over his flesh. She backed out from him and sloppily stuck out her tongue, running it along the bottom edge of him until her head bumped against the expanse of his emaciated stomach. She peppered kisses all along the length of it, and his world spun until she opened her jaw as wide as it could go and took most of it inside her mouth.

The room went black, his eyes casting a sinister glow over her head as he stared at it, bobbing back and forth.

Ryuk grunted, an ugly sound like the time he’d nearly choked on an apple. Her mouth was small and he could feel how he’d filled it: her back rows of teeth scraped over him, and he relished the sensation where his dick was squeezed by her mouth’s anatomy as she tried to take him further inside. Little squeaks escaped from her as she attempted to breathe through her nose, and spit slowly dripped down her chin. The earrings she wore chimed together in a slow rhythm while she blew him. Her face had turned red and a gasp escaped her—she needed to breathe, and this knowledge awakened something in Ryuk.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, surely severing several strands with his unruly claws, and thrust his hips, his cock pushing its whole way into her mouth and deep into her throat. She gave a muffled cry as her nose bumped against his pelvis. He kept them there for a long moment, completely dazed at the feeling of the deep, inner walls of her throat, until he rocked his hips back and thrust again, and again, and again. He brought down his other hand and gripped her face fully, fucking it as hard as he dared. He grunted and moaned, her own moans turning more and more desperate, her earrings clanging wildly. He glanced up to see her lifespan, acutely aware that he did not want to kill her but also that he was not willing to stop just yet, and saw that her time was still far and away.

Something was happening, the pressure within him becoming too much to bear. He was going to release soon, very soon, but he had no idea what this would be like or feel like for him.

_Ah._ _Too late_.

His orgasm had come with no warning and violently tore through his entire body, his back straightening as he tried to go even deeper inside of her. He had locked her head in place against his throbbing dick. He was silent, staring up at the ceiling though not necessarily _seeing_ anything as he felt something thick pour out of the tip of him and into Misa’s esophagus, each pump of it sending a wave of pleasure through his entire being. He had never felt so utterly powerless as the feeling reverberated through him, making him shiver deeply.

He felt Misa’s throat tighten around him, sending a new shockwave of pleasure down his spine as he realized she was swallowing whatever had come out of him. He released his grip on her skull, arms falling uselessly to his sides while she slid her head back, his member falling out of her mouth with a small _pop._

He stood, and the seconds went by slowly.

Slowly.

Slowly.

As if a statue that had been toppled, he fell back, landing on the carpeted floor in the same frozen pose he’d been standing in. He heard her titter at him, but he could not yet speak to defend himself. There likely was no defending himself, after such a display. She crawled over and sat next to him, looking at him curiously. Her hair was a mess, and her makeup too. Dripping down her chin was an inky black liquid, whatever had been inside of him, most of which she’d swallowed. She smiled down at him warmly as her tongue came out of her sensuously parted lips and licked some of it off, holding his gaze all the while. “Now we’re even, _kami-sama._ ”

Yes, he could very much get used to worship if this was what it entailed.

Finally his arms and legs relaxed, and the euphoric paralysis gradually left him. He felt slightly warmer just as Misa pointed and remarked, “Your clothes are back!” with great enthusiasm. He watched as the black liquid on her face seemed to fade out of existence. If his mind didn’t feel fried to bits right now, he would’ve mused on such an interesting development.

She stood, and from his vantage point he saw that she hadn’t been wearing any underwear this entire time, something else he was too exhausted to think on for too long. She stepped over him and he heard her swing open the bathroom door and flip the lightswitch, the soft, orange glow flooding over him.

“Ryu-uk,” she whined, and he turned his head to watch her as she leaned over the counter, fussing over her once-perfectly made face. “I’m a mess.”

He gave a half-hearted, tired chuckle. She was beautiful, and even lying here on the floor, out of breath and completely drained of all energy (and other things), he wanted her again, the feel and the thrill and her comforting smile.

“Next time,” she continued, “I’ll have to wear a lot less makeup.”

_Next time._ Ryuk really liked the sound of that.


	3. Instigator

in·sti·gate  
/ˈinstəˌɡāt/

verb: instigate

incite someone to do something, especially something bad.  
"they instigated a reign of terror"

* * *

So they were even now, according to Misa.

Ryuk’s chief concern, once he’d recovered enough to have a coherent thought, was not _when_ she would make her next move, but rather _what_ the next move itself would be. He was confident she would act again the next time Light left them alone. He found he could be an incredibly patient shinigami when he had something so exciting to look forward to, and the last week and a half went by shockingly quickly, despite Light’s presence guaranteeing Ryuk’s abstinence.

It might have gone by so quickly _because_ of Light’s presence, now that he thought about it. The way Misa would brush past him just a little bit too close, or when she caught him staring and smiled sweetly at him, or when she would let her skirts ride up a just little too far—they were all so much more fun and alluring when Light was there, too busy with some other thing to notice. Knowing that he _could_ , though, was one of the most genuine thrills Ryuk had ever experienced.

“I’m leaving,” Light called then as he slipped his shoes on, gripping a small suitcase: he was going to a nearby city with Matsuda for the night on a “promising” lead in the Kira case.

Ryuk raised a hand to wave goodbye, and Light paused in the doorway and locked eyes with Ryuk, the look in his eyes menacing. Misa ran to Light and wrapped her arms around him, kissing at his neck and face. “I’ll miss you! Be safe!” He would not release Ryuk’s gaze. “I’ll be hard at work for you so you’ll be able to relax when you get home!”

“Yeah,” Light replied coolly, finally breaking the sustained contact to glance down at Misa. Leaning in toward her ear, Ryuk watched her freeze in place while her boyfriend murmured, “If you do your best, I’ll give you something good.” As he stood back, he spared one last glance at Ryuk, topped with a smirk, before slipping out of the door, locking it shut behind him from the outside.

Misa stood there, likely starstruck at Light’s sensual promise. Ryuk, though, felt so giddy that he began to float, for he was quickly coming to the conclusion that Light had become suspicious at last. That piercing look in his eye was one Ryuk hadn’t seen in a while, but it was unmistakable. He had been careful to not change up his normal routine or behavior, and Misa was prone to unpredictability (though she still spent nearly every night engaged in that same ritual to get Light to fuck her, ending in rejection each time), but not much went unnoticed by Light, it seemed. This was shaping up to be quite the show.

“All right,” came Misa’s determined voice. “I’ll get to work!” She strutted past Ryuk and grabbed her laptop off of the desk. She set it on the coffee table and gathered her Death Note in one hand, the TV’s remote in the other. She alternated focus between the two screens, jotting things down in her Note here and there while humming quiet songs, not unlike any regular girl her age.

Ryuk never thought he would find waiting around to be fun, but here he was, idly floating, watching this human—dressed like the fashion model she was—committing countless atrocities and singing softly. He liked the way her small fingertips gripped the pen she used, and how her eyebrows pinched together when she concentrated, lips pursed slightly. He remembered the way the tip of his dick felt inside those lips, and he made a low, hungry sound.

Misa did not look up at him as he half-expected, and wholly wanted.

_Hmm._

Of course she was using him; that had never been a hidden fact, in his opinion. _“Misa has needs too!”_ she’d said, which may as well have been, “Make me come, because Light won’t do it!” Ryuk had thought this wasn’t an issue for him, since he was using her the same way he was using Light: to ease his existential boredom. But the sinking feeling in his chest that she had now thrust all of her attentions on Light was... _different._

He supposed, though, that he couldn’t reasonably expect her to forget about Light in a matter of weeks. Probably not even years, he mused, would be enough. He would be content with sharing, if Kira had shown even the slightest bit of interest in Misa aside from when it benefit himself to do so... _Shit!_ Ryuk suddenly found himself a bit nervous that Light had been flirting with her not even an hour ago. He had forgotten his initial worry that Light could be manipulating things to get Ryuk out of the picture.

“Ryuk,” Misa said then, and when he looked down at her—he had, at some point in his absent-minded floating, turned upside-down—he found her sweet shinigami eyes were locked to his. “Come sit with me,” she continued. “It’s so hot in here today!”

So, he was still on her mind, at least in some way. He flipped slowly, unable to resist her even though he still felt wary from overthinking Light’s behavior, and landed gingerly on the floor. He reached the couch in just three of his long strides, and sat next to her.

“No, no!” she huffed. She stood abruptly and side-stepped so that she was right between his knees, her ass facing him. She wore a skirt, as usual, and today her opaque stockings disappeared up under it. Maybe she wouldn’t be so hot, though it was the middle of summer, if she took them off. Ryuk was near to reaching out to claw them when she began to sit, settling her ass on the couch squarely in the negative space between his crotch and thighs. She grabbed the laptop and eased herself back into his chest, forcing him to straighten against the back of the couch while she curled her knees against his leg.

He was very much not used to such close, casual contact. Hell, he wasn’t even used to _wanting_ to be sexual with her, but this felt like something else entirely. Her bare shoulders peeked out of her tanktop and felt warm and familiar against his chest, and the way her bottom half snuggled into him was strikingly...cute.

Perhaps he only felt so positively because she had finally paid attention to him. As her nails clacked against the laptop’s keyboard and a news anchor spoke in a monotone voice over the television, Ryuk wondered if she had done these kinds of things with Rem.

...Things were becoming clearer and clearer, weren’t they?

Misa continued to work, alternating between her laptop and the Note taking the space on her lap. It had begun to rain, and the sound mingled with her typing and scribbling, even the calmness of her breathing, to create a pocket of contentedness. To Ryuk it felt that if either one of them stood or spoke, something would be forfeited—so he stayed as still as he could, frozen in time, to preserve this moment which, in any other regard, would bore him out of his god damn skull. But here, like this, was simply...good. That word seemed to fit.

Shinigami did not sleep, but Ryuk imagined the last few hours were what it would feel like if he could. He had been so spaced out and utterly comfortable that he had not noticed that Misa had gotten up. In her place on his lap was a blanket, thrown over him likely on purpose, and next to her now-shut laptop on the table were two apples. He stared for a few long seconds, then stood, the blanket falling to the floor, and reached for one of them. He munched on it slowly, the flavor and juices flowing over his tongue, while listening to the pouring rain outside in the dusk. Thunder sounded low, off in the distance.

She entered the edges of his vision, wearing a long bathrobe and carrying a mug filled with something warm. “Oh! Misa was getting worried about you,” she said. “I’ve never seen you like that when you weren’t actually floating off.”

“Oh,” he hummed, grabbing the other apply. “Sorry. You’re warm and...what’s the word? _Comfy_.”

She smiled and placed her cup down on the table. Her cell phone chimed, indicating she’d received one of those text messages. When she flipped it open, she exclaimed, “Light says they’re checked in at the hotel! They had a long day, and,” her eyes scanned the message at lightning speed, “he misses me!”

Ryuk laughed, a cruel sound. Surely she had to know by now that he only sent these messages to keep the appearance that they were a normal couple, but she always sounded so sincere. _“Light doesn’t want me,”_ she’d said. He wondered if she truly thought he was only disinterested in having sex with her.

Ignored once again as Misa tapped out her reply, Ryuk swallowed the last of the apple. It was a mild satisfaction compared to what it once was, before recent events. He wondered if he would ever enjoy an apple again the way he used to. Lust was inherently more interesting than gluttony since one involved a living being, and the other did not, but he’d found the desire for both gave him a similar hungry feeling. Could he wait for her to act? She did not seem like she would, anytime soon.

She bent over to place her phone onto the coffee table, and he saw that her feet and ankles were wrapped in fishnet stockings that disappeared up under the robe. She had changed from one pair to another while he had been zoning out.

It was in this moment he finally realized that he himself was fully capable of making the first move, and that maybe this was something she’d been waiting for. Had he been afraid to? Or did he not want to, too accustomed to letting humans take the lead? It was true they made interesting decisions sometimes, but he couldn’t help but be slightly turned on imagining making it known that he wanted her.

How to do it? He could push her into the sofa and climb atop her...or corner her back into one of the walls and loom over her like he’d seen some actors do in the dramas she liked to watch. He could even be direct, dominating her with his voice alone. He struggled to imagine how she would react in any of these scenarios, but it would be fun to find out. Making the first move was a light enough press onto the human world, he reasoned, no different from dropping the stolen notebook into it in the first place.

He had chosen the _direct_ approach. “Misa,” he said before he had time to start overthinking it. His voice rumbled his power and his eyes shone. The rain grew heavier outside. He commanded, “Take off the robe.”

She stopped, blush rising to her face as she looked up at him. Her expression, to Ryuk, looked worried, and he was concerned he’d made the wrong move and scared her off, and he was forever doomed to face an entirety of a life made all the more boring next to the thoughts of what could have been. He stared back at her, taking in her unmade face (which, looking back, should have been his first clue), and as soon as he was prepared to release her gaze, a small smirk appeared on her lips, electrifying him instantly. He could not wait to see what she would do.

Her hand twitched once at her side before it raised, hellishly slowly, up to the robe’s collar. She began to pull at it, the movement so slight it made his chest ache. A glimpse of her collarbone, then her bare shoulder. “I like knowing,” she breathed, “that _kami-sama_ wants to see me.” Oh, he wanted more than that, _much_ more; he ached to touch her, but something told him that he shouldn’t interfere, that it would be so much better if he let her go at her own pace.

She traced her hand back along her chest, her delicate fingertips tracing along her throat, and pulled at the other side of the robe, tugging it down more quickly than the first. He liked that she seemed to be as eager as he was. The anticipation within him roiled like the growing storm above them, nearly overwhelming him...but not enough to make him act. Not yet.

Suddenly she tugged at the fluffy belt that held the robe shut, and let it fall in a pile around her. Ryuk leaned in, subconsciously, hypnotized. Outside, the sky briefly flashed and thunder cracked once, closer now.

Misa stood there in her underwear, if you could even call it that. A black leather corset snaked from her hips up across her ribs, with cups to support and conceal her small breasts. Her lower half was covered only by a small, bikini-like piece and long stockings connected to the corset by tiny belt straps.

Ryuk swallowed once, hard. Of course he had seen her like this before, as she was not a shy woman and often strutted about (even, at times, in front of the task force) in outfits like these. Hell, he’d been balls-deep inside her throat just a few days before. Although he realized that he did not have testicles, he liked the phrase as he found it to be an adequate descriptor for how it had felt. Anyway, he had never been so close to her when she was dressed this way, nor in such a suggestive situation. It was intimidating.

As she took a few steps toward him, he felt that now-familiar tingling in his fingertips, crawling up his arms. The rain continued to pour, and he felt the warmth of the apartment’s air blow against his suddenly bare body. Her hands grazed over his hips and up his sides. Once again, she thumbed at and smoothed the thorny, feathered collar that jutted out from his shoulders. She stood on her toes and kissed up his neck, stopping at a spot along his jaw.

“ _Kami-sama,_ I want to kiss you, but _,_ ” she whined, “your mouth is too wide.”

 _Hmm?_ She already _was_ kissing him, unless she meant...well, he hadn’t considered that she’d want to kiss him like humans kissed each other. In fact, he did not think he would enjoy such a thing. And further still, he liked what she was doing right now. Instead, for whatever reason, he said, “We can figure that out later.”

He felt her smile against his face, then she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her body against him. She was hugging him, and he could no longer resist the urge to touch her. He lifted his arms and gently placed his hands on her hips, feeling her curves and taking in every inch of her. Imagining gripping them while he fucked her was wreaking utter havoc on his self control, and he tightened his grip.

She hummed in response, before tonguing a spot on his chest that he immediately knew was one of his nipples, despite never having seen them before. Her breath was hot on the sensitive patch, and a moan tore its way out of the depths of his throat—a horrible, beautiful mistake, because this encouraged her to then bite down on it, catching the nub between her teeth.

Ryuk balked, the sensation so intense that he almost clawed her instinctively, his fingers flexed monstrously where they sat on her hips. Before her he squirmed, consumed by the feeling as her free hand circled his other. His hips lurched, suddenly desperate for pressure to relieve the growing ache.

“Is that too much?” she asked shyly as she stood back, and the sight of her threatened to undo him. Her face was flushed, a dazed look in her eyes.

He did not know how to answer such a question. His initial thought was that he’d been tricked: who worshiped something by acting so brazenly towards it? And what gall for a human to be checking in on the feelings of a god! She was putting on quite the show, and he became suddenly embarrassed to have been caught so off guard. He would have to one-up her.

Remembering one of his many observations about human sexual behavior, he tried his best to act cool and seductive as he took a fistful of her hair, careful not to sever any strands with his claws. He tugged her head back with force and pulled her close, looming overtop her—she was so tiny, her head level with his hunched chest. Somewhere around his ribs or stomach he felt her breasts press into him again, searing hot through the leather. He recalled seeing, as she fingered herself weeks ago now, her nipples harden like glass.

Would she break as easily as that?

A thrilling jolt shot through his body at such a question. The approaching storm was atop them now, and thunder boomed loudly in his ears.

The claws of his free hand traced along her curves again. She gave a soft moan at his touch, and he chuckled, too excited to hold it in at what he was about to do. His fingers went rigid, and with a single claw he tore clean through the corset, narrowly avoiding splitting her skin in the process. The garment fell to the floor and Misa let out a whine.

“Ryu-uk! That was expensive!” she cried, struggling against his grasp to look down at the floor. She had broken her own seductive character, and he seized the opportunity to dominate her. His hand found its way to her breasts, the other giving another harsh yank on her hair. She yelped as she was forced to look up at him. He thumbed at her nipple, careful of his claws, and watched her expression melt while she whimpered. Her eyes began to close and he pulled her hair, feeling the strands tug at her scalp. “Misa,” he said, all authority and confidence now, “look at me.”

She obeyed in an instant; once again Ryuk felt his dick throb so hard that it bumped against his thigh.

Something in him had awakened. That he did not bend her over and fuck her right then only proved how much fun it was to command and tease her.

Hair still gripped in his fist, he took a step back to look at her body. Her breasts were so pale that he could see her veins trailing across them, in some spots. Next to his pitch black, clawed thumb, they looked impossibly delicate and fragile. He was mesmerized as he drank in more and more of her: the way her ribcage parted, how tightly the skin of her stomach wove around her sharp hips that disappeared into her panties. Light had to be insane.

Ryuk pinched at her nipple and again watched her reaction, relishing as she winced and moaned. It hardened beneath his touch while he twisted and pulled until he couldn’t take it anymore. He took her body in his hands—and really, she was so thin that he could lift her with just the one—and sat her on the edge of the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of her. He almost didn’t know where to start, but he knew he had to get back at her for her earlier audacity.

Even kneeling before her, he was massive in comparison. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the cushions on either side of her. His tongue came out of his mouth like a snake, and tentatively he pressed it against the hot skin of her breast. She shivered as it slinked along, teasing at her areola. Ryuk noted the taste of her, a chemical overtone that he recognized as her perfume, and an underlying taste of salt. The texture, too, was interesting: soft like silk, and just slightly less soft where her hardened nipples began. He tongued at her as if he needed her to live, and noted with great interest that goosebumps had broken out across her chest and she had begun squeezing her legs together in steady intervals.

Ryuk had reached yet another limit. He hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her close, his open mouth colliding with the same breast he’d been toying with. He had absolutely no clue what he was doing, but her legs wrapped around his skeleton-thin waist as she sucked in a breath, her fists grabbing onto his hair as if she’d float away otherwise.

Just as he was about to sink his sharpened teeth down onto her hardened bud, he felt her stiffen, and the air around them grew heavy. He had frozen in place, so when she tensed, he felt it immediately, her heart thudding against his mouth. Something was wrong.

“R—Ryuk,” she started, her voice trembling, apprehensive. He waited. “I like to get hurt, but...not...for real.” Her muscles eased a bit, and her heartbeat calmed. “Does that make sense?”

He thought for a moment, fighting the urge to say _Of course not._ But he remembered seeing couples pretend not to know each other, or tie the other up, or even submit to torture. He supposed he could understand, given that he was currently sitting in Kira’s living room with his girlfriend’s nipple soaked in Ryuk’s spit—and _that_ was something he wouldn’t have understood just last week.

He grunted once. “Yeah,” he mumbled against her. “If it’s too much, just hit me or somethin’.”

With that, he brought a tooth down on the bud in his mouth, as gently as possible. He suckled on it as best he could, encouraged now that she had wrapped her arms around his neck once more. Their size difference turned him on, however now he wished his mouth was a little better suited for this. He bit at her, and if he was honest, being forced to go slow was its own kind of fun. It helped slow the typhoon of his stomach, at least.

He trailed his tongue down the length of her body, pushing her back down on the couch. He clawed at her sides lightly, leaving tiny red marks along her pale skin. He cocked his head to the side and examined them, fixated on how fragile she was. That she let him near her at all was a miracle, really.

When Ryuk arrived at her panties, he took the time to study them as well. They were not faux leather, as her since-discarded corset, but a matte black cloth and so tight that he could see the shape of her bulging out, a wet spot near the bottom. Too curious to contain himself, he pinched the lips delicately between the claws of his thumb and index finger. She sucked in a breath and moaned quietly, wriggling, and an idea came to him.

He hooked a claw under the side of the panties and pushed them aside, exposing her fruit-like vulva. The scent of it mingled with her perfume and nearly choked him, once again threatening to make him lose all control.

He could not, in such a state, think of a way to use his fingers to please her without seriously harming her on such a sensitive spot, and so he lowered his open mouth onto it, covering it whole. Her hips bucked slightly, and he once again thought it must be a subconscious movement. His dick ached, but he was still having too much fun. His tongue pressed against the area he’d seen her fingering fervently, the plump lips parting easily for him, and he was thrilled to find that this made her whimper and buck her hips against him harder. Her balled fists dug into his head through his hair, encouraging him. The only word that came to mind at the taste of her was _human._ Her folds were hot and he could feel her heartbeat pulsing through her clit while she squirmed and writhed; she was so wholly alive and, for this brief moment in all time that had passed and all time that would come after, she was his.

His.

The thought made him growl, and he would have happily knelt there driving Misa wild with his tongue had she not begged in her softest voice, “Please fuck me, _kami-sama._ ”

The room was black around them, as night had settled during their ministrations. Her breathing was heavy, and the summer rain pounded roughly against the roof. Ryuk had lifted up and away from her, once more taking in her body as she lie on her back on the couch, and by the glow of his eyes he could see that she was looking at him with that same desperate expression from last time.

Lightning struck somewhere nearby; she flinched as her skin flashed in the sudden light, and by the time the crash of thunder sounded overhead, Ryuk had flipped Misa onto her stomach, his hand gripping her harshly by the back of the neck.

A long-dormant instinct had taken control of him now; she was pinned to the sofa as he grabbed her hip in his crushing hold. He hoisted her lower half up as she cried out, his claws digging into the soft flesh of her belly to hold her in place. If she was in pain, he was too far gone to care.

“Ryuk,” she moaned, and he had reached the outermost limits of his self restraint.

Her panties were still pushed to the side of her, and she looked so swollen and juicy. He spared only a moment longer to take in the sight of her on all fours before gripping his cock—too heavy, he realized, to be as rigid as he’d seen most human men’s—in his hand and placing the tip of it at the hole he’d seen her fingers slip inside of. It was wet, nearly dripping, and he could wait no longer.

He raised a leg and slammed his foot on the cushion beside her, bracing himself. Another lightning strike, and thunder following. He shoved himself inside of her, the length of him disappearing inside her impossibly tight pussy. How fucking wonderful she felt. She cried out again, her body tensing beneath him, but whatever frenzy he’d gone into meant that stopping was not an option. Deep inside of her he felt himself bump against something.

Ryuk could not believe the sensations he was feeling. His hips pulled back on their own, his dick sliding out of her nearly fully. He steadied himself there, anticipating the ecstasy, until he pushed back in and began to pound in and out of her, relishing the sounds their skin made as his body slapped against hers: wet, deep, and primal. He fucked her hard, and beneath him she grunted and gave little groans, or a sharp hiss here or there. The line between her pleasure and pain was blurred beyond his comprehension, and all at once he understood why humans liked to play pretend in the ways he’d seen.

“Misa,” he ground out, unsure where it had come from. She gave a soft moan in response and he was met with the staggering realization that he wanted her to look at him again. He desperately wanted to see how he was making her feel. The feeling that he would turn to dust if he did not have this weighed down on him, and the rain pelted against the roof so hard it could be mocking him.

Ryuk was flexible and so much taller than her that, still inside her, he was able to arc down overtop her. He released her middle from his grasp and braced his hands against the back cushions of the sofa, craning his neck to meet her eyes while he fucked her rhythmically.

Even from his upside-down perspective she was radiant, her beauty so impossible it made his chest ache. So otherworldly sexy was she as her eyebrows pinched together—quite like how they had as she’d worked this afternoon—and her lips pressed against each other in a thin line. She was concentrating. The flush in her face was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen, he decided. Her eyes, though, were closed, and that wouldn’t do. He had to see her, and know that she was seeing him. The thought of it nearly made him come then and there, but he somehow forced the feeling down. He felt his thighs squeeze, and the thunder that sounded this time was the loudest yet.

Just then, she opened her eyes and looked up at him, from below her full lashes. _Oh, fuck yes._

“Yes,” he breathed, again unsure why he’d said anything at all. As he continued to pump in and out of her, driven madder and madder each second by her sustained eye contact, he felt her inner walls tighten around him. Her expression changed to match, her mouth parting ever so slightly, her eyebrows furrowing—but she did not close her eyes. He watched as they twitched, and for a moment she looked as though she were about to sneeze.

“ _Kami-sama,_ ” she whimpered, awash in his glow, “I’m coming.”

Ryuk could have shouted, his orgasm came so strongly. It ripped through his body, and he felt so utterly euphoric that for a moment he thought it could not have been real. His hold on the couch cushions tightened, and below him Misa’s breath caught while she stared into his gaze. As deep inside her as it would go, his dick throbbed his release and her pussy clenched around him, tighter than ever before. Her body fluttered with a shiver, and finally her eyes shut and she buried her head into the sofa, breathing heavily while her muscles flexed and unflexed and a hot liquid poured into her.

He stared, remnants of his orgasm subtly quaking through him. His breathing, though he did not need it to exist, was as labored as hers. He felt her walls squeezing around him for what felt like ages. He wondered as he looked down at her if this was one long orgasm, or if each was its own. He would have to remember to ask her about it later. The rain fell a little quieter on the roof, and the thundering booms were far off in the distance by now. Ryuk pressed every feeling and sight and sound to his memory.

Finally she took a deep breath and lifted her head back up towards him. Her skin was glistening, slick with sweat, and her face was splotched pink and white. Wordlessly she lowered her hips, his penis falling out of her slowly, until she plopped her lower half off the sofa’s edge. Wanting to do very much the same, he leaned to the side so that he would not crush her, and fell on his ass onto the cushion beside her. He was utterly exhausted, and still felt lingering bits of goodness all through his body that were fading into oblivion. How did humans—or _any_ animal, really—do this so often?

That night, long after his clothes had reappeared and Misa had tidied herself up, she had grabbed hold of his hand and led him into bed. She took his grotesque face into her small hands and kissed his chin deeply, the way he’d seen her kiss Light on nights he would relent.

Ryuk had found his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They definitely played some Mario Kart DS in their down time.
> 
> I also am planning to wrap things up in 2 more chapters. Thank you for reading! <3  
> \--Vivi


	4. Hostage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that this chapter contains dubious consent, though not with Ryuk (our boy would never).
> 
> If you or someone you know is experiencing sexual abuse (domestic or otherwise), please check out the RAINN hotline.

hos·tage  
/hästij/

noun: hostage; plural noun: hostages

a person seized or held as security for the fulfillment of a condition.  
"the customers were taken hostage by a gunman demanding a large sum of cash"

* * *

That the rain did not ease up should have been Ryuk’s first clue that this lucky streak would not last.

Misa, after a long, exhausting night she had wearily dubbed a _fuckfest_ , had slept most of the morning. She’d awoken alone in bed with a start and fussed at Ryuk, who had stood watching her sleep, for not getting her up sooner.

“I have so much work to do,” she said as she slipped on a set of rust-colored lingerie, then a pair of red-and-black striped stockings, ones in which Ryuk had always liked her. A form-fitting skirt followed, but she lingered at the closet. When he looked harder, he saw her outstretched hand hovering over one of Light’s long-sleeved shirts. She quickly corrected course and went back to her side of the closet, selecting a black collared shirt with golden metal accents, then scurried off to sit at the coffee table with the Note.

Ryuk had trailed after her slowly, keeping his distance. He did not know how to interpret his current feelings into thoughts, much less words. That Misa was not paying attention to him again was decidedly not fun, and not in a way that meant it was boring. It was rather in a way that made his insides feel tied up in knots, like an emotional withdrawal symptom rather than physical. Not that he knew what exactly he’d wanted _or_ needed from her to calm these emotions; to touch and fuck her, yes, but...something deeper tugged at him.

The apartment felt suddenly stifling, and his wings had sprouted before he knew it. He flew to the roof and perched there in the steady rain, feeling heavy in both mind and body.

He thought again of Rem and how her dull expression transformed as if lit aflame when she spoke of Misa. Not for the first time either, his mind wandered to a strange thought: had Misa done these things with Rem? Kissed her far-more-suitable-than-his mouth, touched her lightly, curled up on the sofa with her, took her hand to pull her into bed? He fretted less that he was playing into Light’s hand, but now he thought perhaps Misa had a knack or a fetish for seducing shinigami.

But she hadn’t known how that guy—what was his name, Gelus?—had felt about her, or even that he existed, until after he was but a pile of ash on another world.

Then there was the matter of her obsession with Light. That she remained so devoted to Kira was not unexpected, but _god_ did he want all of it for himself. He had never in his entire existence felt so selfish and needy. There was a strange sense of protectiveness somewhere too, hidden deeply within him. Ryuk found he was almost afraid of letting himself feel it: he didn’t necessarily care if he died, but was surprised to understand he was saddened and angered at the thought of Misa’s death.

Just what the hell did he need?

The rain beat on his face as his usual grimace sunk further. Such doubtful thoughts were not becoming of a god, and he felt stupid and ashamed. He drew on his patience from earlier in the week, and decided once and for all that he would await her affections, should they come. If they did not, he would simply have to live with that.

So much for last night’s initiation being a “light enough press” onto the human world. If these spiraling thoughts were the result, then he was sure he would in time make peace with his decision to abstain.

The rain carried on, and Ryuk sat for a while longer. It was late in the afternoon when he saw Matsuda’s car round the corner and come to a stop in front of the building. Light, in the passenger’s seat, spared a fleeting glance at Ryuk before stepping out of the car. He quickly grabbed his suitcase from the back seat and jogged to the building, waving at Matsuda like the old friends the latter surely thought they were.

Ryuk listened closely as Light announced his return. Misa had jumped up and ran to him, and was probably hugging him tightly as he slipped off his shoes. Their muffled voices carried up to his ears, and for just the briefest flash of a moment, they could have been a real, normal couple, glad to be reunited after a night apart.

He nearly sighed, but leaned into his resolve. That life was not for him, he knew, but the idea that Misa deserved better than him was always met with, _She deserves better than Light, too._ But she loved him, and that would simply need to be enough for Ryuk.

He straightened and stood in the rain for a while longer, trying very hard not to think of anything at all, until he heard Misa bring up all of her hard work.

Light was silent for a moment before responding, and Ryuk swore he heard the sound of pages flipping. Looking through the Note? “Yes,” Light started, “you were a good girl. I haven’t forgotten my promise.”

Ryuk’s knotted insides tightened further, unsure if he wanted to look in or fly off somewhere and possibly never return. Below him, the pair was suspiciously quiet, and he understood something must be happening. Curiosity overtook him, and he sunk his upper half through the ceiling much like that first night he’d watched Misa finger herself, careful, this time, not to be caught.

On the sofa, Light had pressed Misa’s lips against his own, right there on the same spot where Misa had begged Ryuk to fuck her. The kiss he now witnessed was chaste, but Light brought his hands up to hold her face tenderly, deepening the mood. Ryuk watched as her body went from stiffened shock into titillated submission, her back arching her chest against Light as she wrapped her arms around his middle. They fit together nicely. Naturally.

 _It’s better for her this way after all, huh?_ The room grew a touch darker, but he could not look away.

Light’s lips parted, and Ryuk spied his tongue dip into her mouth just as she moaned and reciprocated. A white-hot disgust, heavy like a stone, formed deep in his stomach. When Light trailed his hand down and took one of her breasts in his hand, the disgust slowly began to churn. Misa pressed herself into his palm, and roughly he pulled at her shirt, releasing it from the skirt and giving him access to her skin. When his hand disappeared underneath, Misa gave a loud, high-pitched moan, unlike anything Ryuk had heard from her yet. Was it for show, like Ryuk had thought the night he watched Misa from the roof?

“Misa-chan,” Light murmured into her mouth. When he pulled away from her, Misa stayed in place, arched forward and her mouth open slightly. His hand still hidden under her shirt and against her side, he continued, “I need to rinse off. Wait for me in the bedroom.” It was not a question or a suggestion.

“Okay,” Misa said as if it were.

Light’s hand lingered on her side a moment longer, then he stood and gave her a deceptively affectionate stroke on her cheek before heading off towards the bathroom. It was here that Misa and Ryuk had made a very crucial mistake. He did not know how she knew he was watching, but she turned her head and looked straight up at Ryuk, her earrings chiming with the motion. When he met her gaze and saw that her expression looked pained, he subconsciously leaned toward her, but spied something that turned his concern into a haunting anxiety.

Light had paused in the short hallway, his head inclined toward the two of them for a short moment before entering the bathroom and shutting the door. Surely he had heard Misa’s earrings, but had he seen Ryuk?

From her spot on the couch, Misa did not see the small exchange. She swung her legs off of the cushions and marched into the room, and Ryuk sunk into the apartment and followed, feeling equal parts protective and curious, topped with unease. When he entered, she was tweaking her makeup and stripping down to the burgundy laced lingerie she’d been wearing underneath her clothes—and he noted that she may have thought Light would be bored with undressing her, or with a strip tease. She turned to Ryuk and asked sweetly, “Does Misa look all right?”

Just what had he found himself in the middle of?

He looked her up and down, that lustful hunger replacing the spot in his stomach that had been smoldering with disgust and jealousy not two minutes ago. He wanted to touch her, but reminded himself of his newfound resolve and the fact that she was awaiting an answer.

“Sexy,” came his reply, using the English word for it. He did not think telling the truth would hurt anything.

After a final spritz of her apple blossom perfume, she sat on the bed cross-legged and smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. The air was gloomy, and he waited, listening to the rain outside until her small voice came. “I’m sorry, Ryuk, but…” She did not go on. Perhaps she too did not know how to form these feelings into words.

Still, even before these recent events, he hated seeing her so down. Her energy was infectious, the good and bad, and things simply were not right when she was depressed. Besides, Ryuk _really_ did not want to ponder why either of them felt so upset about this. Instead, he convinced himself that he was excited to resume his tally—nevermind that he’d completely forgotten about it since that fateful night—and tried to reassure both of them in the same breath.

“Ya don’t gotta worry about me. I like to watch.”

Misa started, shifting onto her hands and knees and staring Ryuk down, and once more her expression was pleading. “But, Misa is...Light—”

“What about me?” Light had appeared in the doorway and lingered there, watching them with that carefully crafted look of innocence he’d perfected since taking up the mantle as L. He wore loose-fitted sweatpants cinched at the hips, and Misa gaped at his shirtless body. He crossed the small room and sat beside her on the bed, giving her a once-over.

“You look stunning, Misa-chan,” he remarked quietly. The honorific sounded sinister on his tongue, and that burning disgust returned in the pit of Ryuk’s stomach. Light grabbed Misa by the waist, turning her and pulling her ass squarely onto his lap. The technique had dazed her, and he wrapped his arms around her bare stomach and planted a chaste kiss on her equally exposed neck. When she moaned softly, he spoke into her flesh: “I’ve never asked before, but you’re all right with Ryuk being here? While we…?” His hand trailed down, fingers teasing at her underwear’s laced waistband.

_Shit._

Misa, though starstruck, did not miss more than a beat. “Ryuk is always here.” A dramatic moan escaped her this time as Light nipped at her shoulders from behind her. “M-Misa doesn’t even notice anymore.”

Light’s gaze shot up to Ryuk’s. _Shit!_

The silence was deafening, and Ryuk’s ears filled with that rushing noise, the sound of his own anxious reaction. What was Light about to say, about to do?

“I think it would be more fun if you did,” Light hummed eventually, his eyes still holding Ryuk’s captive as his free hand grabbed Misa’s thigh and pulled, spreading her legs widely and exposing her toward the lurking shinigami in the corner. “Besides, weren’t you two just having a conversation? You’ve always gotten along.”

Her hips bucked once, in that absent-minded way that drove Ryuk insane—but he had to stay focused. Like always, Ryuk had no idea how to read Kira when he had just hatched a new plan, but one thing he _did_ know was that to Light, anyone was expendable.

Light traced the back of his hand up and down her curves; she threw her head back onto his chest and moaned, and Ryuk tried to calm his raging jealousy. He assured himself that there was no angle from which killing Misa, or threatening to, gave Light any advantage. She did too much work for him, and her obsessive devotion was not likely to be easily replaced. Further, Light would never attempt to kill Misa personally: if Kira himself was the threat, he’d be killed right along with them.

“You don’t mind, do you, Ryuk?” Light asked, eyes boring into Ryuk’s as his hand flipped and his fingers danced along her hips and up her sides.

Ryuk felt sick with anxiety.

“I’ve noticed you like to watch, but…” Without warning, Light dug his fingers into Misa’s side—right where Ryuk had clawed at her the night before. She cried out and tried to recoil, but Light held her tightly, her earrings' chime echoing in the room. “I never thought you’d actually try anything.” He smirked and gave Misa’s neck a rough bite, releasing her side and dipping his fingers into her panties. She writhed in his grasp as the scratch marks at her ribcage swelling from the sudden pressure.

The room darkened. A low growl boiled in Ryuk’s throat but did not escape, and he was thankful that his face betrayed scarcely any emotion. It was so very like Light to be snide about this. What the hell did he want?

“I thought you were more of a long-term entertainment kind of guy,” Light remarked coolly. “Or do you just have a thing for taking what’s not yours?” His fingers slid inside of Misa, whose eyes were shut tightly as she shuddered and tried to squeeze her legs together with a hiss.

“Light, it hurts,” she said, pain evident in her voice. Her mouth opened to say something else, but it was quickly filled with her boyfriend’s fingers. Breathy whimpers escaped her as her tongue pressed against his digits, drool and other juices slowly dripping down her chin. Ryuk would have loved to try that, but did not have the clarity to think past his claws.

“Why does it hurt, Misa-chan?” he murmured in her ear, watching Ryuk all the while. He took his fingers from her mouth, returning them to her clit and circling her slowly.

Ryuk felt near to exploding. He fought to keep his hands from going rigid to flex his claws, aware that the slightest movement would not go unnoticed by Light. His stomach flipped and his limbs tingled—though he supplied a great mental effort to make sure his clothes did not disappear now, of all times—knowing any openness of his emotional state would surely mean the end for Misa.

“I…” Misa tried, eyes still tightly shut while her hips rolled and her earrings rang like bells. Her lipstick was smeared, and she seemed afraid.

That wasn’t right. Ryuk had already determined that Light would not risk killing her himself. He had nothing to worry about, realistically, so why the hell did Light keep staring at him? Perhaps he really just was a newly-awakened pervert.

“Yes?” Light urged, still fingering her in slow circles.

“I-it hurts...because—” she was interrupted by her own pleasured (or pained?) gasping.

Just as Light’s fingers paused, Ryuk was struck with a revelation that, as he’d once heard a human say, hit him like a fucking brick: it was not simply Misa’s death that worried him. It was the thought, the very idea, of Misa being in any pain at all that sickened him to his very core.

The room went black. Light was about to hurt her in more ways than one. Badly.

Quickly three of his long, slender fingers penetrated her harshly. Misa cried out as she folded back into Light’s bare torso, her face twisted. She tried once more to squeeze her legs shut, but his free hand held her thigh open so tightly that her skin had begun to turn red.

“I asked you a question, Misa.” His gaze would not release Ryuk’s, whose entire being flinched, overcome with the need to swoop in and rescue her, but held back by the crippling fear that it would be more dangerous for her and him both if his feelings were revealed.

Light’s fingers were nearly knuckle-deep inside of her when she pathetically whimpered, “Misa...asked Ryuk...to fuck her.”

Out in the open, it sounded so wrong and perverse, a transgression against the natural order of things. Fleetingly Ryuk worried if it were not Light he had to fear, but the Shinigami King himself. The old man might even be compelled to write a new rule about this, if he were angry enough.

Light had leaned back and tugged down his pants, his cock springing out of them below Misa’s crotch. But she was, as always, full of surprises, and was not done speaking.

“Light wouldn’t do it,” she continued with a wince through the pain. “So Misa asked—” she yelped; Light must have splayed his fingers inside of her—“Ryuk to do it.” Was she goading him?

He pulled his fingers out of her as roughly as he’d pushed them in and wrapped his arm around her middle, gripping at her hip. Finally he broke the excruciating eye contact with Ryuk, looking down at her body. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” she said through heavy breaths, and her eyes opened slightly as Light suckled at her neck.

“Ryuk,” Light said against her skin, the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance now, “why do you think you can hurt something that belongs to me?” Just what the hell did he care?

“No!” Misa cried, and Light held her tighter. Her heartbeat was frantic. “It was Misa’s idea. Please punish me, _kami-sama_!”

Ryuk felt shot through with grief, anger, jealousy, and too many other emotions to put to name. He wished with his entire being this all really _had_ been a vivid hallucination after all. Before he could begin to process why, Light’s hips flexed and his dick plunged into her from below, and she screamed in response. He bit the base of her neck so hard that a drop of blood streaked down her chest and onto her laced bra as her tits bounced with his rhythm, earrings clanging all the while. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head back, moaning wildly.

“You’re loud.” Still fucking her hard, he yanked her chin down and covered her mouth. Each time Light’s dick slid down and back up again, it glistened with her wetness in the glow of Ryuk’s eyes. He could not discern if she was bleeding from there, too, until he smelled a faint tinge of it on the air.

Ryuk would kill the bastard.

They fucked in relative silence as he watched, the only sounds being Misa’s now-muffled moans and cries amid her jingling earrings, and the _squish_ ing sound their genitals made as they pounded together. Light’s pace increased, and he began to grunt as well before giving a quiet command through labored breaths.

“Misa.” His voice was low. “I want you...to look at him. While I finish.”

Her love for Kira ran too deeply for her to disobey. Above his smothering hand, her eyes cracked open and landed on Ryuk’s, across the room but feeling impossibly close all at once. Tears pooled in them, and in time with Light’s pumps they spilled over and fell down her face, dyed black with her eye makeup.

What a horrible moment for Ryuk to realize that he was in love with her.

Light pulled her body into his as close as possible, fucking her as hard and fast as he could before burying his face into her shoulder as he came to an abrupt stop. His cock was all the way inside of her while his muscles clenched and unclenched beneath her and his breath caught in his throat. Misa stared at Ryuk as if she were afraid he would cease to exist if she could not see him.

Ryuk stared back, still too shell shocked to move. He was unsure if what he heard was the rain pounding on the roof or the rushing sound in his ears; it may have been both. He watched as Light regained his composure, lifting Misa off of him so gently that it was hard to believe he’d just been so rough with her. She sat quietly, unmoving as Light’s semen dripped out of her, tinted with her blood.

Wordlessly Light slid off the bed and onto his feet, tugging his pants back up over his hips. Sparing one last, faint smirk at Ryuk, he made for the bathroom, shutting the bedroom door behind him. There were no demands, no conditions, and Ryuk's mood darkened further to think that perhaps all Light wanted was to toy with them; to scratch his perverted itch to flex any bit of power he had. To say, through action alone, "I am the only one who will be worshiped here."

It was devastatingly silent for too long. Ryuk counted as the seconds became minutes. The minutes may have even become an hour before Misa fell over onto the bed. Tears streamed down her face as she curled up into herself, bruises forming on her skin. They were left with nothing but the scent of perfume, blood, and semen in the space between them, and the sound of the raindrops falling outside.


	5. Jeopardy

jeop·ard·y  
/ˈjepərdē/

noun

danger of harm, failure, or loss.  
"his job was not in jeopardy"

* * *

For three days after Light’s stunt, Misa did not look at Ryuk even once.

When she finally did, it was because he had nearly choked on an apple—which, these days, he tended to binge—and the hacking noise had caught her attention. Her concern was genuine, but the smile she gave when he’d insisted he was all right was hesitant, and afraid.

In the weeks that followed, she had gradually returned back to her usual self. It was a slow process, and there were some things Ryuk suspected would be fundamentally different. He found himself...well, he had told himself that it was boredom, but he knew that this had truly upset him. Light had begun to leave the apartment more than he ever had, and at first Ryuk had been hopeful that Misa hadn’t been _too_ scared off of the idea of hooking up with him, but he’d been proven wrong. He had to admit that he himself wasn’t feeling quite “in the mood,” either.

Forget sex; gone were the days of her modeling clothes and asking for his advice, or wanting him to play a video game with her when Light had class. He rather enjoyed how their relationship had been before all of this began, and its loss was unwelcome. And so he’d spent most of his time hunched in corners and sitting like a gargoyle on the roof of their apartment building, occasionally watching something stupid on the television on rare moments _both_ humans were out of the house. Even before their carnal relations, she had been the life of the home. Things were not right in the world if she was not brimming with happiness.

Not that he could blame her for wanting to tread carefully, and he supposed he considered the both of them lucky that Light had not tried anything like that again.

Who would’ve guessed that the most exciting encounters of his whole existence would come to such a screeching halt? Worse than that was the pain. Not physical, though he’d been eating so many apples trying to avoid _those_ withdrawal symptoms on top of everything else. But the emotional torment that had wrought so much havoc on his mental state? That was a new beast. He was jumpy, and found himself moody more often than not. It was frustrating, and he was growing tired of Light’s amused smirks whenever he caught Ryuk brooding in unusual places, or trying not to stare at Misa while she sipped from her mug as she watched dramas on TV.

 _Well_ , he thought to himself one day, _it’s time to move on._

* * *

The passing weeks began to bleed together, as did the months and eventually the years. He had conjured all of his inner strength to stop moping around, brooding on the rooftop, and generally feeling sorry for himself. Similarly he observed, while attempting to be as passive as possible, Misa’s own healing process. It only took another month or so, really, for her to recover her energetic self, but Ryuk saw the way she still tensed when the three of them were in the same room. Surely Light noticed, too: all part of his plan and his insatiable need to be unquestionably powerful. Ryuk wondered if Kira’s dick was hard twenty-four-seven. He simply could not understand the display of dominance could be for any reason than sick kicks, at this point.

More and more months passed. He had begun again to follow Light around, particularly once the guy graduated and began working full-time on the Kira case. This new detective Near had certainly spiced things up, but Light’s already thinning temper had all but snapped, and he was growing accustomed to taking his anger out on poor Misa, who still, after all these years, just wanted to be by his side and help. Ryuk had tried to tell himself it wasn’t his business, and truthfully, he would be shocked to discover Light still gave a damn about tormenting them, but Ryuk did not check in on her feelings after Light’s outbursts. Did he want to? He had convinced himself he was past it.

It was suspicious, then, that he felt an alarming sense of desperation when he saw Light send to her an emergency order. She was to renounce her ownership and send her Note to a new Kira, who would need Ryuk’s guidance.

So, he would be free from Light’s shitty glances and demands, for a time. He would no longer be stuck between the dreadful lover’s quarrels he so often witnessed, or forced to watch Misa grow anxious and on-edge when the three spent too much time in the same room...but this also meant that she would also lose all of the memories in which Ryuk had ever been present.

His limbs went numb, and his chest felt like it had been set on fire. The cacophony in his mind, which had just settled into a peaceful place these days, grew in an instant to pure, unfiltered agony, and he did not know what to do.

No, that simply wasn’t true. The only clear thought amid the chaos was Misa, and the fact that she would soon not know that he existed, or that they’d ever been as close as two living beings could be, and that he would never have a chance to express to her how he felt.

Would Light be suspicious if he left right now? Would he even care? She would obey immediately, there was no doubt about that. Would Ryuk reach her in time? Before he realized, he had slipped out of the room and taken flight, driven by nothing but a panic so deep it was as if it had taken root in the pit of his stomach, branching out through his body like a vine. The sounds of the city below him echoed in his ears: car horns, people chatting, birds singing. It all seemed so damned mocking.

In another instant, he was phasing through the walls of their bedroom, where the sounds of the world were nothing more than a dull hum ringing in the back of his skull. He hovered above the headboard of the bed, where she sat on the edge with an envelope in her hands, her legs tucked up under her. These events had caught her on a day where she wore nothing outrageous, and Ryuk nearly stopped to gape at her simple beauty before realizing he was running out of time. Or had she already relinquished ownership?

His breath was quick from effort and the roiling panic inside of him, and he found it hard to think, let alone speak. He willed it instead; if he did not have this, he would find some way to turn himself to ash—he could not go on without it.

_Look at me._

Slowly she looked up and turned her head, the anticipation churning in the stormy sea that was the pit of his stomach. Finally her eyes met his, with full recognition and awareness and understanding. He could not feel his limbs. She did not seem sad, but her words made it obvious to Ryuk that she was trying to convince herself that she was happy.

“This is,” she had started, her voice small but deceptively confident, “so that Misa is protected. So that I can finally be the wife Light deserves!” She held the envelope in the air as if it were a trophy. How much of that did she truly believe? Turning towards him, she thrust out the envelope before her, now handling it as delicately as an offering.

Trembling slightly, he reached out one of his monstrous hands and touched it, but did not remove it from her dainty ones. He tried to commit the name and address to his memory. _Mikami Teru._ This was his next task, after all, the new puzzle piece in solving his existential boredom. He should be excited.

“You can hold it,” she said as she pushed it forward a little further. Her expression had gone blank. “You’ll have to fly there once Misa puts it in the mail.”

When it left her grasp, would that count as giving it up? Would she forget him, here and now, just like that? There were too many uncertainties; there was no way he could take it from her. What was he supposed to do?

How was it that after so much effort and time and trauma, he was still so unfathomably in love with her? He had to get a grip. Summoning all of his patience, resolve, and willpower, he forced a casual tone.

“Yeah, I’ve already got it memorized,” he grunted while he tapped his head with the claw of his index finger. Perhaps he could pretend this was why he’d come here in the first place. Yes, that’s right. He’d better make tracks before he said or did anything stupid. Never one for goodbyes, he tried not to feel hopelessly upset as he raised a hand to wave and said, “Well, I’ll be thinkin’ about ya.”

Suddenly the envelope fell to the floor with a sharp _slap_. Rather, he realized that she had thrown it aside, and in the next moment she had crashed into him, her small frame pressing down on his gargantuan form and knocking them both down onto the bed. He did not have time to be shocked; the intense surges of bliss and excitement were taking up too much space, his brain near to short-circuiting. Somewhere in those emotions an undercurrent of relief both calmed and enthralled him: perhaps now he could give her a proper goodbye.

The bed was soft against his back, and even more satisfying was the weight of her atop him as she captured his lower lip between both of her own, his face caught between her warm hands. She pulled at it, pressing her own into his like she were trying to fuse into one being. As she kissed him fiercely, doing what he remembered to be called “making out” with him—well, his lip—a wave of pleasure rocked through his body, and he let out a deep, growling moan. He wrapped his arms around her as those once-familiar instincts took over, and he could not believe it had been years since he last touched her. He stared up at the ceiling and took in all of the sensations as she kissed him like they were the only two creatures left on earth; basking in her, the flood gates that had been holding in all of his repressed desires were torn down into rubble.

Cupped in his palms, her curves felt incredible even through her long-sleeved shirt and lounge pants. In fact, he found that he was hornier than he’d ever been at the thought of being able to slick his claws up under her clothes and touch her skin that way. He guessed, though, that his abstinence did not help how hot and bothered he’d become. The concept of a sex addiction clicked in his mind.

As if on cue, his clothes vanished into thin air. This elicited a low sound from her as she doubtless could feel the change, and indeed, her hands traced down his throat and paused at his stitches, kissing him all the while. He lie there while she touched him, his arms holding her tiny body close, listening to her heart beating wildly. She kissed her way down his neck, but it was here that her ministrations slowed and a tremor wracked her form. She paused, then another tremor. He understood at once that she was crying, before he’d even felt the few wet teardrops on his chest.

“Ryuk,” she whimpered, and her body trembled once more. He waited, staring at the ceiling as sniffled once. “Light will...do you think this will make him stop being so cruel to me?”

He did not know if, deep inside of him, he had his own beating heart, but the spot where he knew it to be in humans twisted so harshly that it caused him real pain. Not out of jealousy or anger, but because she simply needed to be happy. _He_ needed her to be happy.

It did not take much observation to know that Light did not care for Misa, at least not in the way she so desperately wanted. He thought that, perhaps, if both humans were free of the Note, they would have a chance at happiness together. Light’s family, even his stoic father, loved her dearly. Not that he _or_ Misa could see that, though, beyond their macabre obsessions. There was a future for her there, somewhere, if she wanted it.

Free from Kira, she just might.

“Yeah.” He did not think this was a lie. Light would have no reason to mistreat her when her memories were gone. “Maybe he’ll even propose. You’ve been dating for a long time, after all.”

Against his torso he felt her smile. She was still for a while longer as her tears came to a stop, then sat up, her ass resting comfortably against his indented stomach, and wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. They were rimmed pink from crying, her eyelashes wet. He loved seeing her sit over him like this; his hands gripped her hips gently and he resisted the urge to squeeze. Just as he had the thought that she was the most radiant thing he’d ever seen, she met his glowing gaze and spoke.

“Thank you, _kami-sama,_ for bringing Light and Misa together.” Her voice was quiet, and a flush rose to her cheeks. “Will you...let me worship you? One last time?”

The proposal was one at which he would’ve once leapt, but the only thought in his head as they sat there together was, _Let me worship you instead._

It was not his style to speak it; his actions had always spoken louder. And besides...the words would just pile more unnecessary pain onto the situation. Wordlessly he lifted her in his giant’s hands, swapping their positions on the bed. He loomed over her intimately, and felt his penis hanging from between his legs. He had never been in such a position with her before, and her expression was so surprised that he chuckled without meaning too.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded teasingly, her lips pouting. Her skin glowed softly under his eyes, and he tried not to think of the fact that this was likely the last time she would ever see him. He wanted to kiss her, and badly.

Did she want an answer, banter? He could not respond either way. Not that he suddenly preferred to be chatty, but his thoughts simply would not translate right now. He loved her, of course, and wanted her a thousand times over, but nothing would come. He wasn’t cut out for being openly sentimental, but in his own way, he tried.

“Back then, you said my mouth was too big.” His head was nearly parallel to hers, and he stared straight at her. “I wanna try somethin’. But it won’t be a romantic farewell or anything.” Her lips were still pursed, glossed over with light makeup, but it had never been his intention to bring her physical harm—especially after what Light had done that one night.

“That’s okay,” she said with a smile. “I trust you.”

He had to ignore his tumultuous insides. “All right then,” he began, and that ache in his groin pulsed once. The wait would be worth it, he reminded himself. “Open your mouth. And look at me.”

Beneath him she obeyed, and she looked the sexiest she ever had, fully clothed and lying there with her mouth hanging open, waiting for the unknown. Ryuk should have been used to holding total power over human lives, but one being willingly vulnerable for him and him alone was a feeling not likely to ever be matched.

It was now or never; they were on a timer, after all. His tongue slithered out of his mouth, seemingly neverending as it traversed the small space between them. It traced along her full lips, and he was so intimidated that he was worried his clothes would reappear and kill the mood. Below him she let out a small moan, her shinigami eyes locked to his. Emboldened, he slipped it inside her mouth, skimming along the rows of her teeth briefly before pressing against her own tongue, which moved in response.

Maybe _this_ was “making out,” their tongues pushing and pulling at each other’s. Misa squeezed her legs together and her eyes closed instinctively. She cracked one open, watching him while the blush on her cheeks deepened and their tongues pressed together.

He brought his hand to her side and slowly pushed her shirt up to touch her skin. She was searing hot against him and so impossibly soft, and as his hand climbed higher he was conscious of his claws, careful not to leave any marks this time for Light to find. She had not been wearing a bra, and Ryuk thumbed at her breasts, her nipples hard beneath her shirt.

Between his knees, he felt her hips thrust, and in the single moment he lost control of himself his tongue had slipped past her uvula and down her throat. Her eyes shut tightly as she moaned around him, the muscles in her throat constricting, and gagged slightly. Ryuk halted, but she quickly corrected course and opened her eyes, confidently reaching up to take his face in her hands, encouraging him. Not that he knew what he was doing; really, he hadn’t come here to fool around, but it was an added bonus which he had to play by ear.

She squirmed slowly beneath him as his tongue slid in and out of her throat, the sexual thrill so intense he thought he might orgasm then and there. Her breath came steadily out of her nose, and drool spilled down her chin. That tingling anxiety nagged at him as he took his time; he felt cowardly in the face of such an unknown. He needed to fuck her, here and now, and so he withdrew from her and sat back on the bed, pulling her by the hand, deciding she needed to be as naked as he.

Before him, she sat on her knees as if knelt in chaste prayer. He would not risk tearing her clothes for Light to find, whether her memories would soon be gone or not. Ryuk stared at her, not knowing how to undress her without his claws snagging on something.

It wouldn’t be as fun, but... _Oh well_. He gestured and said, “Yer clothes.”

She thought for a moment, then her face lit with understanding and took her shirt off. It was not done slowly or with care; she seemed in as much a hurry as he. The necklace she wore fell against her bare breasts, and she, unprompted, tugged at her pants and tossed them aside. She had not been wearing anything at all underneath, and Ryuk’s eyes glowed harshly as he stared at her vulva and the sheen of moisture that coated her upper thighs. He wanted to taste her, but he was worried they were running out of time.

He pulled her onto his lap, and she nearly toppled them over again as she straddled him; he braced himself on one arm, propping up on it. They worked silently and in unison: she grabbed his dick and let it rest on his stomach while she pressed her folds against it, and his tongue snaked down to her nipples as he put his arm around her waist, supporting her as she rocked back and forth and moaned quietly.

She positioned the head of his penis at her slick entrance and rolled her hips in a circle, teasing him gently. He steeled himself in his patience, refusing to risk even the slightest chance of hurting her. With his face in her hands and his arm around her, she lowered herself down onto him. He watched as she sucked in her bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed while his cock filled her slowly and fully; every centimeter of her tight pussy squeezing against him was pure bliss. Again he let her lead, keeping still as a statue until she had taken as much of him as she could, only about half.

The room was quiet but for her shaking breaths as they both sat there, taking in the sensations and the closeness. He fought against the urge to thrust his hips up into her, and the next moment she braced her balled fists on his chest and began to ride him. Her pace was slow at first, her whole body supported upon her knees and thighs, and she exerted a great effort to not fall back onto him too deeply. Ryuk focused on the way she opened around him, slick and stretched wide, her heart pounding in her chest and her head drooped downward.

It was euphoric, yes; truly a heaven among the hell that waited in the back of his mind. But Ryuk, prone as he was to acting on his selfish needs, would not be satisfied by this.

He needed to _see_ her.

As gently as possible, he took hold of her hair to force her to look up at him. The flush on her face was a deep pink, and for the briefest moment her eyes flashed, evidence of his power inside of her. He felt his cock grow even harder at the thought, and his tongue plunged back into her mouth and down her throat as she rode him slowly, bouncing with no real rhythm. She grunted and softly moaned her pleasure against his tongue while she stared up at him. He had begun to thrust his hips slightly, just the smallest of motions mimicking her own, while fucking her throat at the same time.

With each of his thrusts, more and more of his dick disappeared inside of her. She had found a steady rhythm now, and every time she brought her body back down onto him, he would thrust upward, and eventually she was able to take him in his entirety. Her breath quickened and she gagged once against his tongue; he withdrew it to press it against the flat of her own, instead.

His limit was quickly approaching, but they carried on until he felt her walls clench. She let out a whimper, then another and another, her eyes twitching until she could take no more and shut them tightly. He grabbed hold of her ass, other hand still braced on the bed, and fucked her hard and fast from below. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his chest, and he was so focused on making her come that his tongue, free of her mouth, hung out of his as if he were a dog. Her arms squeezed his middle as her pussy did the same to his dick, and just as he knew he could not hold on any longer, she trembled.

“Ryuk,” she moaned, her voice muffled against his skin. His dick had gone as far inside of her as possible, and he held it there as that black liquid pumped out of him, filling her. The orgasm had struck him with such a ferocity that he saw stars and had frozen in place. She gave a low hum, her walls pulsating around him, overloading his senses with a pleasure so great it threatened to spill over into pain. Atop him she shuddered, hips moving subtly to prolong her own orgasm. Some of his fluids had slowly dripped out of her, running down his thighs and ass onto the bed’s comforter. He listened to her heart pounding and counted the time by its beat, until it calmed just as she let out a contented sigh.

By the time Ryuk remembered that he could move, she had grabbed hold of his hands and tugged, pulling them down. Startled, he hovered above as she lie on her back and gazed up at him, her small fingers woven through his. Tears welled in her eyes, and he felt something inside of him shatter. His clothes reappeared, and on the bedsheets and between her legs, the inky black remnants of his orgasm had evaporated from reality.

Their time was up.

She glanced at the envelope on the floor and closed her eyes. “Do your best,” she whispered, her soft fingers still grasping his monstrous ones. “And...don’t forget about me.” From the corner of her shut eye, a single tear ran down her cheek.

He stared, breathless.

_Never._


End file.
